Blindside
by PaperPrince
Summary: Sometimes love can be a little blind. Five times John missed the signs and one time he noticed.


1-

Navigating the last seventeen steps up to the flat with eight bags of shopping in your hands and a bad shoulder is no easy task, but somehow John manages it, opening the door of 221b to find himself slap bang in the middle of conflict.

"It's a charity dinner Sherlock, you're going." Mycroft declares pulling out an invitation and offering it to Sherlock.

"I don't see why I need to; given the incredibly large check you've already written." Sherlock replies stubbornly from his leather chair where he sits folded up defiantly.

Mycroft sighs. "You know why."

Sherlock huffs and draws his dressing gown tighter around himself. "That was ages ago, I'm fine now. Leave me alone." He snaps refusing the invitation outstretched in Mycroft's hand.

Mycroft stares at Sherlock seemingly considering whether or not a fight would be worth it. Apparently not.

"Very well." Mycroft replies re-pocketing the slip of paper and swiftly exiting the room.

"What was that all about?" John asks standing there shopping in hand his confusion obvious.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter." Sherlock snaps before stalking off to his room in a sulk and leaving John to unpack the shopping.

2-

The brisk tone "Don't walk on that side" from Sherlock as they walk down the bustling street is nearly as confusing as the hand that takes John's moments later.

"I want you on my good side." Sherlock adds his voice soft.

John stares at the warm hand encased in his and smiles.

3-

"I'm not going." Sherlock says lying on the sofa in huff.

"But you agreed." John snaps crumpling the paper in his hands.

"That was before I knew it was one of those stupid 3D monstrosities." Sherlock replies with a snarl.

"What's wrong with 3D films?" John asks failing to see the big deal.

"As far as I'm concerned they're just another way to squeeze even more money from the pockets of hard working individuals."

"But their fantastic! Really realistic!" John says enthusiastically.

"I said no." Sherlock mutters turning over to face the wall with the smiley face etched onto the surface.

Sighing John puts down the newspaper and gets up from the table, crossing the lounge and coming to rest by the sofa.

"Sherlock." He says affectionately, not wanting to ruin their day off by fighting. He bends down to kiss Sherlock's head only to kiss Sherlock's forehead instead as the detective chooses that moment to roll back over.

Sherlock sighs.

"Why bother going out when we stay here instead?" He purrs seductively reaching out to grasp John's jumper and pull him down. Their lips meet with a sweet clash of teeth and tongues.

"I can think of several enjoyable things we can do without even leaving the flat" Sherlock adds breathlessly minutes later with a smile, pulling John up from the sofa and leading him to the bedroom where all thoughts of going to the cinema are quickly forgotten.

4- It is only after they have solved the case of pretty nasty blackmail case up in a ridiculously small town somewhere up north that John finally noticed Sherlock had for the past two nights of their stay in a dinky travel lodge parked in the disabled bay.

It doesn't take a genius to notice the disapproval in John's words and on his face as he explains that they shouldn't be parking there.

Sherlock sighs and points to the large blue badge on the dashboard of their rented Ford Fiesta hoping to end the conversation there.

Instead John turns slightly pink and asks in an angry hushed tone what poor soul Sherlock had stolen it from.

The words "I acquired it legally don't worry" only seem to upset John further.

"Sherlock just because your brother is the government doesn't mean you can do stuff like that!"

"These spaces are for those who need it." He says crossly somewhat ironically given that Sherlock had only brought the damn thing with him so that John wouldn't have to walk too far with his bad leg and the luggage.

Irritated Sherlock points that out to John and earns himself a hard slap.

"I'm not disabled." John snarls pushing past him angrily before Sherlock can explain that the badge is in his name not John's.

5-"So what do you think?" Lestrade asks looking at Sherlock with curiosity, as he studied the dead body of a slim grey haired woman who had seemingly died of asphyxiation.

Sherlock looks at the body and sighs irritably.

"I think I need a new ocularist." He says sounding extremely put out.

"What you know the victim?" John questions; sounding surprised and just a little concerned for Sherlock's wellbeing. Sherlock realises just a little too late that perhaps he has said too much and resumes examining the body in the hope that should he find something particularly brilliant John will be too impressed to suggest he not take the case for "emotional reasons".

"Wait she's into the occult I thought she was a Doctor?" Anderson enquires stupidly misunderstanding Sherlock.

"I said ocularist not occultist, it means she was an eye technician." He says looking underneath the fingernails at the dirt that has collected there.

Sherlock doesn't miss the confused glances exchanged around him; he merely ignores them not wanting to have a complex and completely unnecessary conversation when there is a serial killer with a penchant for former models on the loose.

Sherlock checks the time of death of the body and waits for one of them to ask the question all the same. A part of him hopes that it will be John that connects the dots first, even if he isn't sure how the following conversation will affect their relationship.

Fortunately for him one of the new members of the forensic team chooses that moment to open the rather large pantry cupboard only to have a rather badly hidden corpse of Mrs Parish's lover fall on her. Given the resulting confusion it is only understandable that everyone forgets to ask why Sherlock needed to see an eye technician.

1+

Lazily rubbing the sleep from his eyes John trudged into the bathroom in need of a quick piss. He had noted the absence of Sherlock in his bed but assumed the detective was conducting experiments downstairs or something. He pauses, his hand still upon the door handle upon discovering Sherlock quietly cleaning what appears to be eye in the sink.

Well used to this sort of sight having been roommates with Sherlock far longer than anyone would have bet, his first conscious thought is that they really should get a lock for the bathroom. An apology is half out of his mouth before he notices the startled look on Sherlock's face, his eye blown comically wide in surprise.

John blinks and notes that the eye in his hand is fake, made out of some sort of ceramic looking material. Confused John looks up and finds himself looking into one beautiful grey eye and a red hole where Sherlock's left eye usually resided. Releasing the door handle in astonishment, John finds himself gaping like an idiot.

"Why didn't you tell me?" John asks when he can find the words to speak again.

"It wasn't relevant." Sherlock stutters breathlessly, looking utterly lost.

"Of course not." He snaps feeling somewhat cross that Sherlock had kept this from him, while another part of him wonders what else Sherlock might have kept from him.

"Just this." Sherlock replies answering the unasked question.

Sherlock sighs and surreptitiously tries to brush his short curls across his face to cover his empty eye socket. "It didn't matter before when we weren't but then… and I should have said something but I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want it to change things." He rambles nervously.

"It won't." Promises John.

"It will. It has." Sherlock frowns. "I don't want to be coddled. Mycroft and mummy do enough of that as it is."

"Alright." John replies recalling his leg and snapping at Sherlock in that car park.

"When did it happen?" John asks.

"I don't remember. I was just a child."

John nods understandingly.

"Cancer?" He asks hesitantly.

"Retinoblastoma" Sherlock confirms. "At the time complete removal of the eye was the best option for me." He says letting John's medical training fill in the rest.

Silence falls in the cramped bathroom, as neither knows quite what to say.

"Are you going to freak out?" Sherlock asks after a few minutes of staring at John intently.

"I don't think so" replies John honestly, as he finds himself wanting to hold Sherlock more than ever, wanting desperately to remove the sharp look uncertainty and worry from Sherlock's face.

"It disturbs Mycroft." He admits.

"Mycroft's a prick."

Sherlock smiles at that, a large wonderful smile that swallows up his features and it should be disconcerting staring up at one eye and one not eye, when you're used to seeing both but it isn't.

"Do you want to look?" Sherlock asks holding out the ocular prosthesis. "I don't mind, honest." Sherlock says placing it into John's hand. He lets John marvel at the craftsmanship of the thing in silence for a while before taking it back. Their fingers brush clumsily as the eye changes hands.

"Can I watch you put it in?" John asks curious.

Sherlock startles ever so slightly at the request, his surprise evident in his features and for a moment John fears he has done something wrong, pushed their relationship too far by asking for Sherlock to share too much too soon.

His mouth opens and John waits for him to speak; only the words do not seem to want to come. Sherlock nods his head.

"Alright." He says before demonstrating, smoothly popping his eye back in with the assistance of only long nimble fingers and years of practice.

Once he is done Sherlock returns to staring silently at John. If it wasn't for the awkward position of his arms, dangling loosely by his sides Sherlock's stare would have been fairly disconcerting, as it was it only seemed to make Sherlock seem even more exposed then he had been moments ago.

Wordlessly John pulls his pyjama shirt from his body, exposing the bullet wound he was normally so careful to hide to Sherlock for the first time. Before Sherlock can speak John closes the small distance between the two of them and captures his lips in a loving kiss.

* * *

Note two working eyes are needed to enjoy the effects of 3D films.

Also most artificial eyes are made of polymethylmethacrylate rather than glass as is often suggested in movies.


End file.
